My Compass Shall Lead you
by AllTheThingsThatSheSaid
Summary: "Most people have a moral compass." She once told him. That was easy to believe, but it didn't make it true.


**"****Not all those who wander are lost."-JRR Tolkien**

"What's this," he asked, inspecting the object wrapped in aluminum foil. To him, it might as well have been a bomb.

"It's a burrito," Miller explained, sitting across from him, her eyes narrowed; already completely exhaustion with his antics.

"A burrito," he repeated. His voice held a hint of confusion, and mild disgust, though he had never actually ate one before. It wouldn't be him, if he didn't make this as complicated as he could. "Beans," he questioned.

Her hand stilled in mid process of opening her own, and she dropped it with a thud down onto his desk, leaning back into her chair, and sighing heavily. "Yes beans. The Chinese place was closed. I didn't know what you liked."

"Not beans," he answered. Her brows furrowed at his response, he noted the line protruding across her forehead, the one that always surfaced when she was becoming annoyed with him. "But it will do," he quickly added, "Thanks."

He hesitantly glanced back up at her, avoiding her eyes. He noticed the wrinkles along her forehead were gone now and her jawline was less square, more relaxed. And she had already returned to the process of once more opening her burrito. She wasn't all that bad, he thought silently to himself.

She was intellect. He had gathered that right away. Quick on her feet, she was able to hold her own. But she was entirely too trusting; the way she viewed the town and the people in it, with blinders; that was going to be a problem. This was her first murder case. She was still fresh, still innocent, still…hopeful. She still saw the good in people, but that would change in time, he knew. You get enough murder cases and it always changed; not just your views, but you as a person. Before long, she would become cold, hard; that's the only way you survived this job. The thought saddened him, he didn't want to see her broken, but he understood the reality of it. It would come. It always did.

She bit into her burrito and right on cue his stomach growled. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually eaten. He was pretty sure he had skipped breakfast that morning. This case, this town, his past; it was all taking a toll on his health. His stress level was at an all-time high. He could feel the tension in his muscles. His body ached, not to mention that his head was killing him. At night, he wasn't sleeping. The last time a child was murdered, well, he didn't want to think about it.

"Aren't you going to eat," she asked, her voice breaking him from his thoughts.

He silently nodded, opening the wrapper, and taking a bite of his food. To his surprise, the crap actually tasted good.

"I know, right," she said, somehow managing to read his thoughts; a huge smile spreading across her lips.

He stared at her indignantly. She was going to be a thorn in his ass, he could tell. Although a pleasant thorn. "Not bad, Miller; not bad, but don't go expecting an award anytime soon." At that, her smile quickly faded away.

And for a brief second, he felt guilty. Perhaps, he was being too harsh on her, but in the long run, it would make her a better detective, stronger. But even so, she did bring him dinner. Though he imagined that it was the result of the mother instinct in her, the one that knew she would have to take care of him because he wouldn't do it himself. Or maybe, it was the slight detective in her that understood that this job demanded that you'd be at your highest ability to function, and that required fuel, and that was something he was lacking at the moment.

But he knew one thing; she hadn't brought him dinner because she cared about him. There was no way possible that she could care about him, he had made sure of that. He used his biting sarcasm and mild insults to push her back just enough, and right as she got to her breaking point, he made sure to tell her she was doing a good job, just enough to reignite the fire in her. He needed her to hate him, but to respect him, but more importantly, to never care about him. Those were the rules that he had set, and they could never be broken. He had to be guarded now, his past had proven that. No matter how silently he admired Miller, even going so far to say liked the woman. This is how it had to be. One day she would understand all of this; all the reasoning behind his madness. In a way, he was trying to protect her just as much as he was trying to protect himself. He only made a mess out of things; messes he could never clean up, and he was determined to not do that here, not this time around.

But still, she was eating in his office with him, though her own desk was in the other room. That had to mean something. And more importantly, the idea that he didn't have to eat alone for another night, that did mean something, to him. It was a comfort, like a warm familiar blanket; it draped over him, made him feel somehow warmer.

She was rambling about the case, his less than enthusiastic tactics and bedside manner, but he only heard some of her words, the rest was white noise. They approached things very differently, and besides, she was too close. Too close to this case, to the parents, to this shithole town. And her Mary Poppins complex was already making his head start to hurt…again.

He was about to tell her to go eat at her own desk when something she said caught his attention.

"Most people have a moral compass."

He stared at her for a moment, realizing that she actually believed that. It honestly didn't surprise him. Part of him was angry at her complete utter innocence. Being that naïve could get you killed. But there was also a small part of him that was also jealous. He wondered what it would be like to actually see the world in color, and not just in black and white.

"Compasses break," he said softly. Everyone had a breaking point, and when pushed, could be capable of anything, even murder. She needed to learn this now.

She didn't say anything, but her eyes darkened just slightly, enough for him to realize she understood the truth behind what he was saying.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He knew she was one of the good guys, so much so, that for a moment, he was tempted to come clean about his past, knowing almost innately that he could trust her, but the light in the office caught her wedding ring suddenly, sparkling in such a way, that it blinded him. And then he remembered; he could never let his guard down, no matter how desperately he wanted too.

**Fin.**


End file.
